


Take This Waltz

by JuweWright



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Hogwarts, Sad, School Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuweWright/pseuds/JuweWright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you're banned from using your wand for a year, you get interested in everything, Granger. I even know how to cook – well sort of. I know how to call the delivery service and I know how to open a can and I know how to boil pasta. Oh and I have become very good in DIY repairs.”<br/>She smiled.<br/>“Almost sounds as if you're a decent guy now Malfoy.”</p><p>After Hermione's death, Draco remembers their times together...</p><p>I don't own anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take This Waltz

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I neither own Harry Potter nor anything to do with it. It all belongs to JK Rowling and that's whom I bow to in admiration. I don't earn money with this and just hope people like it.

PRESENT

Draco was standing at the window of the small cottage by the lake. The fire in the open fireplace had burnt down to a faint glow that was only minutes away from being only cold ashes. The hearthrug, a multi-coloured thing that looked as if it had been bought at a Muggle flea-market, was discoloured from the dust. The old house-elf that lived in the cottage was so ancient and slow she would have been thrown out of Malfoy Manor a decade ago, but the Manor was far away as were the memories that still clung to it.

Draco stared out of the window. The first frost had made the dew turn into ice and there was white frost on the grass and the trees. The window reflected the young man's white face. He was even paler than he had been back in his school days. He had not aged much in the last few years. His chin had become slightly squarer, but that was pretty much everything that had changed. He was wearing a black suit and black shirt. His hands were clasping the window sill. A small silver ring glinted in the morning sun when he finally came out of his stupor and turned to face the room.

It was a comfortable little place. There were two old armchairs with completely different styles and different patterns. The coffee cup and the Daily Prophet on the small table in front of the green chair indicated it had been recently vacated by the owner of the place. The other one, a plushy orange thing, had a pile of cushions lying on it on top of which a fat white cat was snoring.

On the mantelpiece stood a couple of framed pictures, but Draco had turned the frames around so they faced the wall. The house-elf kept asking him whether it wasn't time to turn them back around. Lucius would have scolded the creature for making suggestions about how things had to be done, but Draco only sighed. Tinny had loved her almost as much as he had. The first couple of weeks they had been two ghosts roaming a house that was suddenly empty. Void of laughter, void of happiness, void of any sign of life. Then Tinny had pulled herself together – the little that there was to pull together, she was so old and frail. But Draco had stayed in his stupor. He knew it was a mechanism of his brain to help him cope. Usually people came back to life as soon as they were able to, as soon as they were prepared. But would he ever be prepared to face the fact that she was gone?

He only let hazy memories in, memories that only scratched the surface but did not go any deeper. The Muggle hospital's corridors, then St Mungo's corridors, the corridor leading to the door. The healers serious expression when he said there was nothing they could do. He had been so mad, he had almost shaken that witch, but then decided to smash a door in the men's toilets instead. If killing anyone would have made her live, he would have done it without a second's hesistation. He would have done anything. But there had been no way. She had been incredibly grown-up and calm about it. Perhaps it was Muggle children growing up differently. Muggle children weren't as protected as wizard children were. They learnt about death earlier.

 

He walked up and down in the living room then suddenly couldn't stand it any more. So he put on his coat and marched out of the house and into the frosty morning. He remembered it had been freezing when it all had begun. It had been such a cold January night that even the short walk up from the apparition site to the castle had been enough for him to feel as if his nose and toes would fall off any moment.

PAST

They had all been invited to the Grand Ball to celebrate the restoration of Hogwarts after the war. After all the trials he had been facing throughout the last two years, he had been a bit reluctant to go to the party. He had been hunted by reporters for long enough. Surely, there would be press people present that night. He wasn't sure he felt up to yet another headline with his name in it. He was thoroughly sick of it all. But then Pansy had said she'd be going and Crabbe and Goyle as well. All of his old friends had decided they did not want to miss the party of the decade, so he had given in.

He was wearing his finest dress robes which were a dark emerald green, a decent white shirt and cuff links. Pansy used to make fun of him sometimes resorting to these old-fashioned things, but he quite liked the sophisticated air they gave any man who wore them. If he needed to face a herd of photographers and scribbling scumbags, he would do so in style.

He had arrived a bit late due to the fact that he had hunted his cat through the whole manor from cellar to attic and back, the beast having picked up his tie and decided it was a new fancy toy. After retrieving the tie he had had to comb his hair again which had gone all over the place during the chase and so he would now miss out on the formal part of the evening – speeches, and speeches and more speeches – and would only be able to join the actual ball, which was pretty convenient.

When he passed the gates to the castle he already heard the music. He stepped into the entrance hall and handed his cloak to a young witch who blushed slightly when he threw a quick smile her way. Dear me, the young ones had become easy to impress. The doors to the Great Hall were wide open and people filed in and out all the time. Nobody took particular notice of him except for Minerva McGonagall, who was wearing a dark violet gown and a pretty extravagant wide-rimmed hat in honour of the occasion. She excused herself to the tiny grey-haired wizard she had been talking to and came up to her former pupil, smiling brightly.

“Mr Malfoy. I am delighted to see you. I was not entirely sure you would come.”

Draco shook her hand and shrugged.

“Admittedly, Professor, I wasn't completely sure about that either.”

“Well, Mr Malfoy, you will find it is good you have come. The musicians are excellent, the champagne is as well and the food is just exquisite. Also, I think I have seen Miss Parkinson on the dance floor already. Yes, I think there she is with Mr McLaggen. Merlin's beard, did he really just grab her backside. I am glad I am not your teacher any more otherwise I'd have to give him detention for that.”

With this, she went on to the next person she had spotted and Draco walked to the dancefloor.

Indeed, Pansy was dancing with McLaggen, that infernal douche bag. She didn't look too happy with her own choice though, especially as McLaggen invested a bit too much brain power into finding means to steal a kiss from her so that he had none left to count to four. Malfoy watched him step on Pansy's feet five times before he got bored and let his gaze wander to the next pair on the dance floor.

He was not surprised to see Ginny Weasley dancing with Neville Longbottom. Although it was a well known fact that she was engaged to Harry Potter, it was also a well-known fact that Harry Potter couldn't dance for his life. That boy had two left feet. Or two right feet. He definitely had no dancing feet, that much was clear. Following Ginny's eyes, Draco saw Harry sitting on a chair, sipping champagne and talking to Luna Lovegood who looked as if she had wrapped herself in her grandmother's window curtains. Well – if her grandmother had enough lack of taste to buy pink curtains with a green pattern on them that was. Just when Luna laughed at something Harry had said, Ronald Weasley came into view. The Weasley had tried to grow his hair in an attempt to imitate his older brother Bill, which had been an incredibly bad idea because it made his face look almost completely flat. He was munching away on some kind of pretzel and handed two more to Luna and Harry.

Draco frowned. The group was incomplete. But before he could even finish the thought and wonder where Hermione Granger might be, he heard a familiar voice address him.

“So you showed up after all, Malfoy.”

He could not help but stare at her. He had once before been smitten by her appearance, once before been confined to staying mute and concentrating on not having his mouth gape open in disbelief. That had been at the Yule Ball. This, today, was much worse. She had been a rough diamond back then. Now she was polished to perfection. She was wearing a simple red dress which was tight around the upper part an fell into exquisite folds from the waist ending at her knees. She had obviously been to a hairdresser to get her unruly curls to stay in a complicated looking up-do into which a lot of silver Butterflies had been stuck. She didn't wear much make-up but just enough to make her eyes look larger than usual. Her lips were coral-red just like the dress. Had these lips always looked so full and soft?

“We weren't sure you would make an appearance. Ron, Harry, Ginny and George actually placed bets. I guess Ginny won everything now. She'll be delighted. That was quite an amount of Galleons.”

For a while they stood next to each other watching the dancers silently. Hermione flinched when McLaggen once more stepped onto Pansy's foot.

“Ouch. You know, I really don't like her at all, but even Pansy Parkinson doesn't deserve to have Cormac as a dancing partner.”

Draco looked at her with a bemused smile and a raised eyebrow. She blushed and shrugged.

“He was my date to a party once. It was horrible." 

“Did he taste of onions?” 

“What?”

Draco chuckled.

“That was my worst date. With Pansy, actually. Our first date. Went to Hogsmeade with her, went to Honeydukes. Bought her a ginger bread heart. Then kissed her. She tasted of onions. It was disgusting. Imagine you are standing in the middle of all that sweet stuff and suddenly you have onions in your mouth. I almost threw up.”

Hermione laughed and Draco could not help but register how beautiful she looked when she laughed. He also could not help but register that this was probably the first proper conversation they had ever had in their lives and that it was definitely the first time he had made her laugh. His own insecurity was mirrored in her eyes when her laugh died out all of a sudden. Awkwardly she shifted from one foot to the other, then looked up again.

“But you still dated her afterwards.”

“She never tasted of onions again afterwards. I think she noticed I wasn't really into that.”

They both grinned.

“So. My worst date, your worst date. I think that's a good start. Much better than the usual banter anyways.”

She nodded.

“I've had enough of small talk for about a year. I have told people how I am doing, fine, whether I think the Great Hall looks splendid, oh yes, whether I enjoy being back here, oh yes all the memories, that they have heard I am not with Ron any more, yes because otherwise I would have had to murder him... I feel like a parrot... or stuck record constantly repeating the same line... but then you don't know what a record is.”

Draco had been surprised by the reaction of his brain to the information about Hermione and Ron not being a couple any more and was still trying to sort out why he felt so delighted, when he noticed she was waiting for an answer.

“Aaah, uhh, records. Yes I know what that is. I am not an idiot, Granger. We have Grammophones, too, you know. We also have records, we just don't record them in the same way that Muggles do. Although I have to say that your technologies are quite fascinating. I still can't get digitalized music into my head. How can music exist without a physical thing that it is written on.”

“Well it sort of is written on the hard drive I guess”, Hermione said. “I didn't know you had developed an interest in Muggle things.”

Draco pulled a face.

“If you're banned from using your wand for a year, you get interested in everything, Granger. I even know how to cook – well sort of. I know how to call the delivery service and I know how to open a can and I know how to boil pasta. Oh and I have become very good in DIY repairs.”

She smiled.

“Almost sounds as if you're a decent guy now Malfoy.”

Was she flirting with him? It almost sounded as if she was, but that was impossible. But why exactly was it impossible? Yes, she had hated him once. But he had changed. The last two years had been tough for him but he had come out of all the trouble a different person, a better person. And after all, she would not be standing here, making conversation, if she still thought he was an arrogant narrow-minded git, would she?

The song ended and Pansy almost ran away from Cormac as soon as the last note was over. She panted when she passed them.

“Hi Draco”, she said. “Good you showed up.”

And to Hermione she added: “You were so right about him, Hermione. Oh my God, he's insufferable. I need a drink. Something strong. I think I saw a house-elf carrying a bottle of firewhisky...”

Thus she spoke and vanished. Draco chuckled and heard Hermione chuckle next to him.

“Ah, Hermione.”

McLaggen had found his victim gone out of reach and now was holding out his hand to the next one. Hermione stopped chuckling immediately and turned pale. Without even thinking about it, Draco took a step forward.

“Sorry, but this lady is already spoken for.”

He reached for Hermione's hand and led her to the dance floor hoping that Cormac was too busy being confused to notice that Miss Granger looked as befuddled as him.

“What are you doing?”, she hissed as the first notes of the next dance were played and Draco began to sway from one leg to the other whilst arranging her arms so her right was resting in his left and her left was resting on his right upper arm.

“Firstly: Dancing. Secondly: Rescuing a damsel in distress. And I would accept being rescued if I was you, otherwise I'll just drop you right off into his arms.”

She glowered at him.

“Don't you dare, Malfoy.”

“Then stop resisting. I am the man, I am supposed to lead in a waltz. If you keep struggling we won't be going in a circle but in a spiral and will bowl everyone else off the dance floor.”

“Oh no. That would mean everyone would be staring at us.”

“Yep, Granger, just you and me on an empty dance floor. Would be all over the Prophet not to speak about Witch Weekly.”

She laughed again and he felt the tension vanish from her pose. He could steer her without difficulty now. Who would have thought that Hermione Granger the bookworm was such a graceful dancer? He had seen her with Krum of course, but it was different to feel how someone moved in perfect harmony to the music. She seemed completely at ease. Her eyes met his and she raised a brow.

“What are you thinking? You have a funny look on your face.”

“You don't want to know that.”

“Are you sure?”

Was he sure? Had he ever been sure about anything? He couldn't remember. He just knew right at that moment, that something had changed and that destiny had just taken an whole different turn.

PRESENT

He had been walking along the path that led around the lake for hours. He had not even noticed how cold it really was and that his fingers were blue and that his teeth were chattering loudly. When he finally stepped into the cottage again, Tinny was already waiting for him. The old house elf had been prepared to scold him and to tell him he was a bad boy. But when she saw the look on Draco's face, she hesitated.

“Master?”, she asked. “Is Master all right?”

Draco looked down at her through a veil of tears and he smiled.

“I am quite all right, Tinny, thank you. I am just a bit cold.”

“Tinny already made a big fire in the living room again”, she said. Then suddenly, her ears drooped. “And Tinny has been a bad elf. Tinny has turned around the pictures of Miss Granger and Master. Tinny wanted to turn them back around before Master came home but she forgot. Tinny just likes looking at them from time to time, Master, because they all look so happy. And this has become such a sad house.”

She brushed a tear off her face and blew her nose into the cloth she wore.

Draco shook his head.

“It's all right Tinny. You don't have to turn them back around any more. I think... I think I will go and have a look at them. Would you mind making some tea? And put rum in it, I need something to warm me up properly. And change that cloth. Does a handkerchief count as clothing or would you accept it if I gave you one, so you don't have to blow your nose into your garment.”

He did not wait for the elf's response but opened one of the drawers in the hallway and took one of the handkerchiefs out, handing it to the tiny creature who thanked him and immediately broke down in tears again before vanishing towards the kitchen to put the kettle on.

Draco made his way into the living room where the cat was still sitting on its cushion-throne. He went up to the mantelpiece and picked up the photos one after the other. It had been months since he had last looked at them. Months he had been unable to face the deep dark abyss that was looming before him. Months he had lived and breathed and found every single minute worthless and superfluous without Hermione by his side to share it.

The first picture had been taken at Harry's and Ginny's wedding. They had been together for less than four weeks when it had been taken. They both smiled widely and waved in the camera and shared a quick kiss. Draco watched the Hermione in the picture kiss his former self over and over again. When Tinny came in with the tea, he went on to the next photo.

It took him almost all afternoon and half the night to go through the few pictures there were. Each of them bore a new wave of memories that needed to be digested and survived. When he finally picked up the last picture on the shelf, it was almost midnight, his eyes felt sore from crying and he felt completely exhausted.

The last picture had been taken at their last Christmas. It showed him and Hermione and the Potters. All of them were smiling. Little James was flying on a toy broomstick. He had later on crashed into the Christmas tree. The shadow of death had not been looming on them back then. It had felt as if they were looking forward to an eternity together. When they had come home from the visit to Harry's and Ginny's place it was a cold night and Tinny had not managed to keep the fire going. Hermione had helped the house elf put it back on and then had sent her to bed. She was always so considerate of the tiny creature. Draco loved her for it. He loved her for being respectful towards everyone and everything. He also loved her for her indestructible belief in people.

PAST

That night he sat down in his armchair and pulled her down onto his lap. She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder, her body molding into his like it molded into her orange armchair.

They sat there silently for a while as the fire spread a comfortable warmth through the cottage.

Hermione suddenly looked up and fixed his eyes with hers.

“You know sometimes you notice small things that are weird?”

He frowned.

“Such as?”

“Well. We've been together for ages. I mean, it's been quite long since we moved in together and everything but I just noticed something and it's really weird.”

“Hermione Granger, stop speaking in riddles!”

She shook her head.

“I can't believe I never noticed it. I never even thought of it. It just struck me right now after listening to Harry and Ginny for a while and they say it like all the time. And we just don't. We don't say it because we know. But...”

Draco put his finger on her lips and pressed a kiss on her forehead. She seemed agitated. Something really seemed to upset her.

“Hermione you're rambling.”

“The thing is, Draco, I've never told you, I love you.”

He shrugged.

“Not in these words, but...”

“And you haven't told me you do either.”

“Yes, but...”

“Imagine something happened tomorrow, something really bad and we would not have said it...”

“Hermione, I...”

“I think we should say it. Just this once. Just so we don't stand there thinking I should have done this when I still had the chance.”

Draco sighed and stroked her curly hair. It was still as unruly as ever. Untamed just as the girl it belonged to.

“Okay”, he said.

“Okay what?”

“Okay. Let's say it. Now. Here. If you really think it's so important, let's just make this the moment to say it.”

She looked at him inquisitively.

“You don't think I am mad?”

“I think you're just as mad as always. And next to that you're slightly drunk and also the most amazing woman I ever held in my arms. And I love you, Hermione Granger. I love you.”

It was strange to say it. The words did not come naturally, as if they were stuck to his tongue and only went forth reluctantly. He had always considered the three words as cheap, as something that was too common to say. But the light that suddenly lit up her face was worth the effort and he could not help that a warm feeling stole into his breast when she put her lips to his ear and whispered:

“I love you, too, Draco.”

PRESENT

Draco put the last photo down on the shelf and smiled.

“I love you, Hermione Granger”, he said. “I still do.”

THE END

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a song of Leonard Cohen... here's the shortened lyrics:
> 
> There's a piece that was torn from the morning  
> And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost
> 
> Take this waltz, take this waltz  
> Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws
> 
> On a bed where the moon has been sweating  
> In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
> 
> Take this waltz, take this waltz  
> Take its broken waist in your hand
> 
> But who is it climbs to your picture  
> With a garland of freshly cut tears?
> 
> Take this waltz, take this waltz  
> Take this waltz it's been dying for years
> 
> And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow  
> All your sheep and your lilies of snow
> 
> Take this waltz, take this waltz  
> With it, I'll never forget you, you know


End file.
